The Forest of Frost on the Windshield
by redskiez
Summary: They're snowed in and, only because of the cold, cuddles in front of the fire.


_Based on the following prompt posted by_ otpprompts _on Tumblr:_  
 _Imagine your OTP sheltering and cuddling somewhere because of a snowstorm._

* * *

He thinks he needs to be reminded once more of why he's here in the Land of Iron.

This is his least favorite place to be. Why on the loving Earth does he wish to come here, again?

Miles and miles with nothing but snow, everywhere void of human life and what remains is just samurai scum. He leans against the wall of the little shack he found on chance, staring out of the rickety window.

His arms are crossed against his chest, pressed tight against his body as he attempts to ward off the lingering cold. These walls are clearly past their prime and if Obito looks closely, he could see the gaps between the wooden planks, made wider with the passage of time and the wear from the weather.

Even though the outside is bright, the light reflecting from the snow, the inside of the shack is dim and dark. It's hard to really see much once inside, the corners of the room shrouded in darkness where there are no windows.

His right arm begins to hurt and go numb from both leaning his weight on it and the general coldness of the area, but he remains still as he preoccupies his mind with staring at the glass, trying his best to seem as though he is interested in the spiderwebs of frost that grows on the aged glass.

As he continues to watch, he begins to notice that the crawling of the ice is speeding up. The snowstorm is getting worse. Obito dully notes this and continues to watch with a growing fascination at how the crystallized water is growing wildly, rooted deep on the plane of glass. Branches begin to shoot skyward and the entire thing looks a lot like a forest.

A forest of cold.

The wind howls aggressively and the window shakes. It also shakes the shack and Obito, taking him out of admiring the frost. Unconsciously, he jerks away from the wall and hisses, the numbness of his arm catching back up to him as his brain spreads its awareness back to its surroundings.

He decides to leave the wall with the window — realizing a little too late that that's where most of the coldness is leaking from, since the window's frame has been broken for years and it no longer closes properly, as well as the glass being shattered at the lower left corner — and heads toward the back of the shack.

Even though the entire Land of Iron is always covered in snow, assaulted by the frosty weather constantly no matter what time of the year it is, the back of the abandoned building seems to be fairing much better than the front. Obito is not a weather expert, but he would think that the wind is not bound by much when it comes to an open area such as this place. He thinks that the area would have wind blowing left and right, ruining the building in all directions.

Seems he is wrong. He doesn't like the Land of Iron, he reasons with himself, it's his least favorite area. Why would he be knowledgeable or even give the slightest hint of caring to pretend to be knowledgeable about its geology and weather?

He walks stiffly, partly because of the cold. He wears gloves yet his hands are bunched into fists, trying to at least trap some warmth in them before they completely fail him and lose all feeling.

His partner seems like he has the right idea. Deidara sits at a darkened corner, huddled tightly into himself. He looks like a ball, tightly tied up in the efforts of preventing any body heat from leaking out. As a natural reaction to the cold, everything he does seems to be slower — even breathing.

Obito isn't concerned that Deidara is dead — a little nip in the air isn't going to bring down this mighty artist — but he does swallow a thick lump in his throat and turns to the side, trying to find something.

With the help of his Sharingan, he spots a pile of spare wood that sits merely rotting at another corner, resting against a wall and only slightly rattled by the blizzard. He takes mere three strides and he reaches the pile. He tries grabbing them, but he could truly no longer feels his hands, or at least, one of them.

He takes a step back and steadies himself, reaching down to grab everything with his right hand. He wobbles toward the center of the single room shack and deposits the miserable pile of wood onto the floor. It makes a loud sound but Obito does not flinch from it, even though he could spot Deidara do so in the corner of his eye - which he can see! The mask does not get in the way at all.

He painfully kneels down, supporting all of his weight with his left while his right knee goes down to meet the equally as rotten wooden floor. Once he's settled, he moves to lower his left knee as well and stares at the pile of scrap wood.

This might not be the best idea, but it will be brighter in a second.

He reaches out once more and rearranges the wood pieces into a more familiar shape, one that will hold oxygen within itself. He quickly puts his hands together and forms a hand sign, focusing and reaching deep within him.

Fire comes to him naturally, as it does to most Uchiha, and even though his mouth is covered, he successfully turns his chakra into the element. It isn't a big, devastating and showy technique like he'd usually do when he's in a tight situation, but a small, much more meaningful and precise one as he aims it into the heart of the wood pile.

It catches on fire after a few seconds, probably due to the dampness, and begins to burn. Low, at first, then it beings to raise as much as it could with the wind still leaking through the window.

"Senpai," Tobi calls out to Deidara, waving his hand in a motion. "Come here."

Deidara seems to be debating whether or not to listen to him. He could see that his eyes are shifting toward the fire and the weight of his gaze isn't something that Obito could easily brush off.

Eventually, though, Obito could see Deidara give up and get on his feet, shaking something off of him and heading over to the makeshift campfire. It's not cozy, nor is it perfect, but it contains a fire and its warmth is much appreciated.

Deidara settles down at the opposite side of Obito. He's visibly shivering, his breath coming out in puffs of air each time. Obito isn't sure why Deidara hesitated in the first place.

He reaches out and grabs a piece of wood that didn't quite make it into the pile. He pokes at it and tries his best to keep the fire going as large as it could.

It doesn't seem to be growing any more than it already is and Obito sighs, maneuvering his body once enough warmth melts the ice in his joints to block the wind that is coming through from the window.

It has little effect. Obito breathes through his nose and tosses the stick to the side, pressing his hands on his knees to push himself to a standing position. He's faintly aware of Deidara tracking his every movement.

He turns around and heads back toward the only wall that has the window. He watches it for a while, gaze dashing around as he tries to seek out something that would help their case.

He really, really hates the Land of Iron. But he knows he will have to come back here at least once more. He does not look forward to it.

Spotting an old, worn canvas on the floor, near the door, he heads over and grabs it. It stinks of fabric, mold, and fungus, the moistness of the snow not helping one bit, but Obito holds his breath through it and flicks the sheet out. It's big, and he's certain it would do the job.

Obito grabs the two corners of the canvas and holds it up. It flaps against his body with the strength of the wind. He steps forward and pins it to the window, covering all and any openings effectively. The canvas flaps wildly, so he wedges all four of the corners into the gaps of the wooden wall, and it seems to hold it in place rather well.

It won't come off anytime soon.

He turns back. The room is even darker now that the only light source is covered. A few bits of light is sprinkled here and there from the gaps in the wall, but it's not enough to let anyone find their way through the dark. If it isn't for the campfire, he's fairly sure that he would be stumbling blind, whether or not he possesses the Sharingan.

Deidara's face looks interesting in the firelight. The flickering flames jump and dance across every surface, casting an almost ethereal glow. It enhances all the angles present on Deidara's face, causing them to cast long, waltzing shadows.

He couldn't stop looking. He blinks and the shack rattles once, a long continuous stroke of wind brushing over the land. Obito turns then, sitting down in front of the fire, keen on stoking it.

Even though he doesn't really mean to, he begins to become aware of the long silence between them. The cold does not help with his desire to keep up with his persona, his mind desiring only to be quiet and rest, instead of trying to keep the mood light with something Tobi would say.

He knows that Deidara likes Tobi's presence, even if he's not exactly the most pleasant of companions. He gives Obito a headache, and that's quite a heavy statement considering Tobi is somewhat of a relief for him.

The fire is growing much more steadily now. It fills the room with a warm aura, blanketing the two of them comfortably. He feels appreciative and places the stick to the side, reaching out and spraying his hands right in front of the fire, allowing them to warm up.

The entire time, Deidara still doesn't move. It's a little concerning and Obito allows it to continue for a few seconds more before he sniffs, looking up at his partner.

"What's wrong, senpai?" Tobi asks.

Deidara doesn't answer. He merely continues to look forward, but Obito is aware that his gaze is lingering just above the flame, watching its ends lick at the air.

Neither of them says anything for a while, just listening to the fire crackling between them and the snow howling outside the building.

He hears a sigh. Deidara does so with a reason and Obito wants to know the cause. He clasps his hands together and rubs against the material of the glove. The friction further helps generate heat as he waits for Deidara to talk.

"Cold, hm," is the only thing he says.

Tobi nods once, the cold surface of his mask knocking against his nose as he does. He winces and then propels himself upward, stepping around the fire and reaching up to unzip his cloak.

Deidara watches him, eyebrows furrowed. He slips the cloak off his shoulders and drapes it on top of Deidara's shoulders, reaching over to fix the thing so that it would cover the entirety of Deidara's torso.

"Why didn't senpai wear thicker clothes?" Tobi asks, sitting down with his legs crossed and watching Deidara.

When Deidara doesn't immediately answer, Tobi continues to attempt to lighten the mood. "Fashion sense?"

Deidara scoffs. "Something like that, hm," he says, voice breathy with a laugh. Obito continues to be glad that Deidara finds a friend in Tobi. He nods and wraps an arm around Deidara, wedging his left hand between his inner knee. Much to his surprise, Deidara does not complain about the embrace. Though he does not draw closer, he doesn't pull away, either. Tobi thinks that it's a win in itself.

Obito feels the need to apologize to Deidara. He's the one who dragged him into this mess, even though they didn't necessarily have to come. Obito just wanted to make sure that everything would go as plan.

"Aren't you cold, yeah?" Deidara's voice cuts through his train of thought and Tobi turns to look at Deidara, tucked underneath his arm.

Even though he doesn't want to, Obito finds himself grinning at the obvious concern in Deidara's voice. Ah, so he's worried about his partner. That's cute. "Not as cold as you," Tobi says, though he's not exactly doing a good job at hiding his shivering.

Deidara sighs quietly. He wouldn't have been able to hear it if it weren't for his close proximity. He feels Deidara shift underneath him and he curiously turns to watch him, finding him lifting the two cloaks with his left arm.

He doesn't need to say anything. Tobi's grin widens and he ducks underneath his arm, wrapping the cloaks around himself. The two of them huddle close. Deidara turns away from Tobi's mask and stares at the fire. It might just be an optical illusion from the fire right in front of them, but Obito swears he could see a tint of pink on his cheeks.

They sit like that for a while, wrapped up in each other's cloaks and huddled in front of the fire. Neither of them feels the pressure to say anything, content with only each other and the sound of the fire crackling.

A rather distressing noise sounds right outside the shack but Obito doesn't even look up, even when Deidara starts within his arms. "It sounds like we're snowed in," Tobi says matter-of-factly, grinning behind his mask. "I guess senpai is stuck with me for at least another hour."

Deidara scoffs at his partner's words and even though Obito fully anticipates Deidara moving away from him, he merely burrows deeper into his embrace. "This is the Land of Iron, hm, we'll be snowed in again the next hour."

"Does that mean senpai wants to stay here, cuddling with me forever?"

Deidara does try and pull away then, even though it's a half-hearted attempt at best. He doesn't succeed at escaping Tobi's embrace because he doesn't necessarily want to be cold once more, but the message is clear.

Tobi laughs and tightens his grip around Deidara, hugging him just a little bit closer. "I'm sorry, senpai," he apologizes, "let's just stay warm here, okay? I don't think the mission is in any hurry of finishing."

Deidara huffs through his nose, leaning into Tobi's embrace. "Why are you so carefree, hm? Aren't you afraid of Pain being upset if we dally?"

Obito stifles a laugh, but Deidara could feel it through his chest. He shakes his head lightly, shrugging his shoulders and jostling the other man. "I dunno," Tobi says innocently. "Maybe there's nothing to be afraid of. Maybe, for now, there is only snow."

He hears a hum. Silence then settles back in between them and Obito occupies himself with staring at the covered window, recalling the spiderwebs of frost that took root on the broken glass. It reminds him very much of the very roots that crawl through his veins, but, perhaps, as he sits here in front of the fire, there is no need to fear the cold.

There's enough warmth between the two of them to melt everything inside of him.

* * *

Hey guys, Red here!

This isn't entirely a Christmas themed fic like I'd usually do, but hey, consider the fact that I stopped really celebrating Christmas four years ago. You know, Christmas stopped feeling like Christmas to me. So, let us enjoy this snow-covered fic that involves cuddling by the fire! I'm pretty sure that's what everybody wants for Christmas, right?

(I seriously need a Christmas miracle at this point.)

Title based on _The Forest of Frost on the Windshield_ , a music piece by Matt Pond PA, from the album "Winter Lives." Available on Spotify, Soundcloud, Bandcamp, etc.

As always, thank you for reading! If you can, please leave a review telling me if you've enjoyed it or not!

Happy holidays and a wonderful New Year,  
-redskiez:)


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